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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24067222">songbird</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmamay/pseuds/emmamay'>emmamay</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>i want to be with you everywhere [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Good Parents Maggie &amp; Wentworth Tozier, M/M, Teen Dad Richie, all fluff, eddie is the bestest friend anyone could ever ask for, just two boys and a baby, losers club and a baby, songbird by fleetwood mac</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 19:29:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,350</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24067222</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmamay/pseuds/emmamay</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He brought her back in a funny, fuzzy yellow blanket, swaddled like a baby duck, gargling her tiny quacks. Her Grammy and Grandpa sat waiting on their perch, meeting her chickly head with birdie pecks and softly sweeping fingertips and little whispers. </p><p>Eddie Kaspbrak sat across the room, eyes doe and aglow and pink raspberry lips in an ‘o’. Gentle hands rested on his legs, squeezing his knees, swallowing down a gasp and watching her. Silently, he flutters over to Richie and lays his head and a hand on his heart. “You’re never going to be alone. Neither of you.” </p><p>—</p><p>Richie brings home his baby bird and Eddie’s there to help them fly.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eddie Kaspbrak &amp; Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>i want to be with you everywhere [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1943143</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>119</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>songbird</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Maggie and Went don’t go silly stupid crazy. Don’t shout, don’t even raise their voices. They pet his head and tug and rub at his arms and tell him that he’s their little bunny and that everything will be just fine. </p><p>When she comes home it’s just the same. Her mother was never unkind. Sure, it had been a mistake - the making of - they hadn’t even been together. But looking at something so delicate, so teeny tiny and breathy and grunty and precious, nothing about her existence is an accident. She’s here to clear the sky and for flowers to bloom and she’s alive and she’s <em>his</em>. The sun sets only to rise. All for her. All because of her.</p><p>She was collated and created in the womb of a woman who swore she would never love her, and at first, Richie hated her for it. But she handed over the little dove so trustingly, while she flew away to a new nest far away, he found himself wishing her good luck. His tiny bird would be just peachy, in the arms of those who had hearts ready enough to dote on her, to adore every inch.</p><p>He brought her back in a funny, fuzzy yellow blanket, swaddled like a baby duck, gargling her tiny quacks. Her Grammy and Grandpa sat waiting on their perch, meeting her chickly head with birdie pecks and softly sweeping fingertips and little whispers. </p><p>Eddie Kaspbrak sat across the room, eyes doe and aglow and pink raspberry lips in an ‘o’. Gentle hands rested on his legs, squeezing his knees, swallowing down a gasp and watching her. Silently, he flutters over to Richie and lays his head and a hand on his heart. “You’re never going to be alone. Neither of you.” </p><p> </p><p>He makes good on his promise. Richie slips into his bedroom with two mugs of milky tea as the little pea on the twin bed sighs herself into slumber. Eddie’s laying on his side, head propped up by his hand, eyes blinking blearily, creamy dreamy gaze and heart set right on her, Fleetwood Mac streaming steady soft from the record player by the window.</p><p>Richie clambers up atop the Batman sheets he and Eddie would hide out under with blinky torches as dinky kids and sets the tea on his bedside table by a twinkly star nightlight. His curtains are drawn so it’s the only source of light in the room. Minus the two teeny, tweety birds by his chest.</p><p>“You are so beautiful, Mavis.” Eddie’s pillowy fingertips trickle a trace of a crescent down the right side of her cheek. “And so loved.” His voice is so mellow it’s a murmur, and he’s gnawing on his bottom lip and so slightly, lightly shaking his head in awe. </p><p>“I’ve never seen anything like her before, Eds.” Richie is so moonstruck by her. Every food is his favourite and every song a love song and everything is right in the world and he <em>made</em> her. His own fingers scale her peach chin, perky cupid’s bow, peanut nose, all the way up to her forehead. He’s so, so quiet as his head falls to place a kiss just there.</p><p>Eddie’s brushing her oily eyelids and butterfly lashes so daintily and carefully and kissing her ear and her cheek and the bridge of her nose. He grabs hold of Richie’s hand and kisses it so soft it’s like a secret. Looks up at him with those baby browns through wispy lashes and whispers, “I’m so proud of you, Rich.”</p><p>Richie nods lowly and lumps Eddie’s five fingers together, squeezing tight once before letting them fall. “Thank you, Eddie.” He knows Eddie knows everything he’s thanking him for. He passes him over his tea and blows on it a little for him. </p><p>Then they lay together a long while, Mavis in the middle. Every so often one of them will pop their head back up just to look at her, or the other, and hum contentedly with a big breath through their nose. </p><p>Eddie is lilac and sweet dreams on a feather pillow and coffee cream chocolate and Mavis is flower petals and warm sand and clouds and Richie’s moonshine brain has no idea how he got here, laying in the midst of something akin to dawn. </p><p>Maggie’s knuckles chap the wood of the door soft and kind and her pokey head peeks through, arms bundled in a chunky cardigan and crossed nicely over her chest. She walks slowly to the bed and catches Richie’s cheek in her palm, caressing it while looking over her granddaughter. </p><p>Eddie has fallen asleep with a smooshy cheek to the mattress, hand flaccid and caught in Mavis’. Mags runs three fingers through his flitty bangs and down his face. “I’ll call Sonia and tell her he’s sleeping over.” </p><p>Richie turns his head and watches him breathe for a gentle moment. He looks back to his mother, “Thank you.” </p><p>“You get some rest, too, Bunny. And don’t squish her while she’s up here with you two.” Her lips mush up on Richie’s forehead, then Mavis’ and Eddie’s. Her smile makes Richie feel like his heart can settle calm and safe and beat steady still for good. He bids his Momma a goodbye and goodnight and cuddles up into two softy snorey snuggle-bugs and thanks his lucky stars.</p><p> </p><p>“Look at this sky!”</p><p>They’re all sprawled out laying in the backyard; baby brought the sun out today. It shines on Eddie and his head and turns the tips of his golden spun curls a little dirty blonde. The same colour as the tweety sweetie with the wriggly legs lain below them, fingers wrapped round Eddie’s, tiptoes touching and tapping Richie. </p><p>“Thank you for the sun, Mavis. Little light.” Eddie’s voice is like honey, and Richie’s little pollen-sucker is just as entranced as her father. It makes her eyes droop behind her tiny pink plastic sunglasses. Eddie scrunches shut his own and rests on his boney elbows, fresh freckled face toward the sky. Richie yanks the baseball cap on Mavis’ head further down past her fluffy, fleshy eyebrows and rubs her pudgy, sun screen sloshed cheek. </p><p>When his own head falls to the blanket, his ankle tugs tight right ‘round Eddie’s. A single slanted brown eye blinks a grin and a shake of the head and pulls on his right back. </p><p>“Goodbye foggy weather!” Rich announces, floating back up to a slouchy sitting position, straight stretched hand shielding the sun from his eyes. It flies out hasty and quick into a wave. “You won’t be <em>mist!</em>” </p><p>It takes Eddie a split second. He dives over to prod and poke at Richie’s chest and push him back down to the ground. Rolls his eyes crazy, lips all grubby grinny.</p><p>A certain little thrush sings heartily on his behalf, however, and lets out a screechy symphony of squeals and squeaks and <em>laughter</em>. Giggles like white chocolate and strawberries while sitting on the kitchen counter and cookies and milk before bed. </p><p>Eddie’s hand vaults to his mouth. Falls to sit back on his heels and stares at Richie over his fingers. </p><p>“What the-“ Richie’s arms flail funny and mad to the sky, to Eddie’s shoulders, to his daughter’s sides. “Mavie! Mavis, you laughed at Daddy!” He’s cackling crazy himself, eyes boring into his little creature in hearty disbelief. He pulls her flush to his chest and her hat catches his tears. She’s never done that before.</p><p>Eddie’s hand is there to swipe them up quick and fast, in a hazy dash, as the other settles down by Mavis’ spiney, knobbly back to hold her head in his palm as he begins to cry too. </p><p>“She laughed! Eddie, she laughed!” Richie’s weepy and he’s soft and he looks at Eddie over his daughter’s head and places a hand over his right there. </p><p>“She laughed!” Eddie giggles too, all kooky and wild. He feels like a cloud. “At least someone thinks you’re funny.” </p><p>Richie wants to make a another joke about Dad Jokes and the fact that he is an actual, certified father therefore it is pretty much his law-abiding duty, but he’s sobbing and his baby just <em>laughed</em> at him and Eddie’s looking at him like he hung the moon and he’s never known any kind of love like this.</p><p> </p><p>When Maggie awakens, her alarm clock blinks 03:02. Went tumbles and rumbles in sleep and she pats his tufty hair and kicks into her slippers and teeters down the hall.</p><p>Richie is fast asleep in a bed with rumpled pulled back sheets, and an empty bassinet in the corner nods to the subdued screams from downstairs. She closes shut the door and floats on down the stairs. </p><p>Little Eddie Kaspbrak is stood at her kitchen counter with a warm bottle in heated hands and a smile like the setting sun. Mavis is no longer crying, just looking up at him with those big bug eyes and seizing his pinky in a squeeze. </p><p>“Hey, Mavie baby. Hi,” He’s crooning and cooing and cocooning her up in his hold and brushing his nose off hers. Her little lips grin up at him round the nub of her milk while her feet kick funny and giddy. </p><p>“Eyes just like your Daddy’s, you know.” He sways in the shallow yellow light. “Galaxies in ‘em.” He whispers tiny, “You’re so lucky. I’m so lucky.”</p><p>Sweeping in and grabbing a glass for some water, Maggie runs a palm around and down his cheek while passing on her way to the tap. The water trickles in as Mavis glugs down the rest of her feed and Mags locks eyes with Eddie and sends him a soft, settling wink.</p><p>She stands for a sweet moment and sips her drink and watches the two before falling away again with a pinch to Eddie’s pink cheek. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”</p><p> </p><p>When Eddie leaves, the sun goes down. By the time Mavis is six months old, he’s staying over almost every night anyway, and in the time spent with his mother he is resentful and begrudging and his mind is still with Mavis and Richie. So Maggie offers him the spare room and he moves in. He sees his Ma Sunday afternoons. </p><p>He still goes to school. Their plan was to stay home in Derry and save this year anyway, flee to New York with the rest of the losers the second next Summer’s sun took its rise. They can cross that bridge when they come to it, but for now, Eddie, Bev and Bill all take journalism together at Derry College, the other boys dotted around town starting their own stories, and Richie schools online. Eds works at Derry’s quaint old coffee shop with Stanley, and Rich takes the same shifts at the supermarket he has since he was fifteen and gets a double discount on diapers and formula. One is always at home while the other is not so someone’s there for baby. It’s cosy and it’s nice and they’re all just great and fine. </p><p>“She really is all you, Richie.” Bev croons, feet in Ben’s lap in the Tozier front room, Mavis in her own. </p><p>“Lucky her.” Rich sighs all self-deprecatingly. He’s sat on the floor beside Eddie, his hands itchy scratchy to get her back. He’s working on it, but he doesn’t want to ever be without her. It’s the same way he feels about his best friend. His pinky entwines with Eds’.</p><p>“Yeah, lucky her! Look at those big buggy eyes batting right at us all. She’s got the moon in those eyes.” Eddie swats at him with his spare hand and turns to look at him straight on. “I know someone else just like that.” </p><p>Richie would like to tell Eddie that he is every star encapsulated into one human being, but he’s a little overwhelmed at the sight of all of his friends passing around his baby. He settles for a squeeze round Eddie’s finger and sock of Stan’s ear with his frog socked foot while lovely, gentle Mike is passing Mavis off over to him with a sweet brush of the brow and whispered ‘bye-bye’. </p><p>“What the hell, dickhead. I am literally holding your child right now.” Stan shies away from the touch with a glare and pulls Mavis closer into his chest, pushing a finger into her small dippy palm for her baby fist to clench closed around it. His gaze melts on her, he’s the softest Richie’s ever seen him. He wants to cry a little.</p><p>Bill takes the last and longest hold, and blows tiny tickled breaths on her nose to make her giggle, but she’s a tad sullen and tiny inch cranky and totally ready for her bed. She’s a content little lark for the most part but with lungs made for chirping she’s gotta use them sometimes. She’s a screamy crier, bawls and tugs her hands into fists. Bill can’t get her to calm, so holds her wriggly body out and Eddie comes to the rescue. </p><p>He subdues her to a pretty, pursed pout and sweepy, sleepy lashes in seconds, and cuddles her up close into his neck, lips pecking tiny and mighty at her head and hand patting her little diaper butt. </p><p>“Superman.” Richie smiles lopsided and goofy. Eddie shakes his curls into Mavis’, bashful and darling and lovely. </p><p>He cradles the back of her fluffy head and speaks softly. “I’ll put her to bed, you stay here.” Holding her out for a goodnight kiss from her father, Eddie smiles sweet and silent as Richie smooches each of her pinky pie cheeks and then baby button nose. “Be back soon.” He shuffles out of the room uttering wispy wishes to her. </p><p>“It’s sickening how badly you guys look like a family.” Stan sighs, straightened back to the cushiony side of Richie’s Dad’s armchair where Mike’s long legs dangle. </p><p>“I mean,” Richie’s bunny buck teeth meddle with his plush bottom lip. His fingernails run to and fro over the carpet and he leans up into his right shoulder. “We’re a family, all of us. Mave is just part of that now. Right?”</p><p>Beverly’s face is knowing. She slides her gazelle legs from Ben’s to sit properly on the couch, body facing his. “Richie,”</p><p>The room’s gaze falls upon him and makes him antsy and angsty. His eyes flit in a carousel round them all, to the floor then back to Bev. </p><p>“Of course we’re all a family. But none of the rest of us <em>live</em> here with you and Mavis. Have you thought about what Eddie is to her?” Bev’s always been real soft with Richie. She knows he needs some extra looking after when the rain falls and the sky isn’t so sunny or blue. </p><p>“He—he’s Eddie. He’s my best friend—I,” She falls down onto the floor beside him, wraps an arm tight and reassuring and kind right round his shoulders. He sees her look up to the other boys. </p><p>“I know, Richie. But as of right now he is a friend helping raise your child. What happens next year?” </p><p>“He is not just my friend.” His eyes are a little steely, he doesn’t mean it, he stares ahead with a quiver in his lip and tries to breathe through his nose. He’s confused. Beverly’s hand has his back. </p><p>“I know that. We know that.” She speaks like a mother on the first day of school, after a grazed knee, a split fingertip, spooky scary dream.</p><p>He breathes shaky from his mouth. “I guess we are a family.”</p><p>“Of course you are.” Bill offers, sat by Ben on the sofa, matching kind sparrow smiles. Richie looks up at them and then to Mike and Stan. </p><p>“I just don’t want to mess this up.” </p><p>“You’re doing a wonderful job, Rich.” Mike is a wise old owl and he hoots and shoots wisdom and warmth out at every leafy blow of the wind. He makes Richie feel steady. “You’re raising a baby at eighteen years old. But Eddie is right by your side, that’s all we’re trying to say. Have you two spoken at all about your arrangement?”</p><p>“I don’t know that there’s much to say. I think he knows. I love him so much. We both love Mavis so much. Why can’t it just stay that way?” He scratches at his head and his neck and <em>knows</em> why that is not enough. The others know he knows.</p><p>Stanley’s like a hawk. He’s straight and stubborn and steadfast. Always watching and always looking out. His beak points at Richie in calm resolution. “He’s clearly in it for the long run. Are you?”</p><p>“That’s not even a question. Of course I am. Of course.” Richie’s peacock wings spread out in defence and dire determination. </p><p>Stan looks away, having found what he was looking for. “Well, then.”</p><p>Eddie scoots back in with one hand pawing at his sweater sleeve and the other clutching the baby monitor, playing soothing static sounds of Mavis’ breathing. He’s smiling wide and lovely as he falls right into Richie’s lap and leans his heavy head back into his knobbly shoulder. “She was so sleepy. Out like a light.” He hums. </p><p>Richie smiles into the nape of his neck as the others all watch softly and he leans back onto his hands, stretching out both of their bodies. Bev blows him a kiss overhead and Eddie pretends to catch it before him, only to press it quickly onto Richie’s cheek with his palm and a tiny titter of a giggle.</p><p>They watch old silly Pokemon tapes and cackle stupid at Bill’s marvellous inability to recall any of the evolutions and fall asleep in twos and feel eight again for the night and really, forever. </p><p>Once they come to, the losers bid sleepy goodnights and farewells to Richie and a dolly dozing Eddie, arms wrapped limp round Rich’s neck. Bev birdie pecks his cheek for real and tells him she loves him and that Eddie does, too. </p><p>He cuddles close and carries him up to bed as the house finally falls into a calm silence. Eddie hasn’t once slept in the spare room, insists on being close to Mavis and him. He’s a little pillow of light and his legs tangle round Richie’s every night and it’s very fine by Rich that he stays. That’s his family. Wants to keep them close. Always.</p><p> </p><p>A certain strawberry sucker is quite the talker now; been bubbly blabbering like a giggly baby monkey for weeks. Her first proper word was ‘hi’. She waves and pokes her tongue out and crinkles that teeny Tozier nose and bubbles it over and over and over again. Creepy crawling like a little lizard, too, chubby knees grazing the floor and stubby fingers poking into every nook and cranny. </p><p>Currently, however, coated in slippy, dippy, slurpy juice and stuck in her mouth. </p><p>“Good, Mavie?” Eddie asks her, face in palm, titled and adoring, sat on the opposite side of the highchair. Her tongue peeks out as she nods quick and excited and smiley. Eddie laughs delightedly, looking over to Richie. </p><p>Rich is shaking out his curls in a cuddly chuckle and smiling sideways at Eddie and dib dab wiping Mavis’ chin with a dinky, pinky cloth. “One clever little bird.” His finger runs round her ear, niggles at the lobe and tickles at her roly poly neck. Squishy shrieky giggles sing out into the dining room.</p><p>The back porch doors are swung wide open and letting in plenty peachy light and a trickle of breezy wind. The blinds blow and the blonde hairs on Eddie’s legs stand on their static ends. Richie shrugs off his sweater and lays it nicely across his knees. Eds keeps at feeding Mavis her strawberries but smiles down to his lap and out to the backyard and the sky and setting sun. </p><p>Richie grins to himself and tip taps his toes off the floor, shoelaces shaking, and ruby red lips scoffs up the rest of her scrummy bowl and sucks soundly on her fingers, bib and little lettuce leaf sleeves dripping. </p><p>“Holy moly, baby Mavie, you’ve made quite the mess!” Richie’s hands slip soft round her pudgy baby belly and pluck her up from her seat, smooching her strawberry cheeks. Eddie’s quick and slick at clearing and cleaning up and handing Maggie’s outstretched hand Mavis’ mucky dishes and leaning into a hug from her. </p><p>He smiles soft at Richie round her elbow. “I think someone needs a bath.” </p><p>Richie tucks Mavis snug under one arm to lift the other and sniff silly at it. “I had one only this morning, deary. But if you insist!”</p><p>Eddie snippy swipes Mavis up and out from him and dashes away with a roll of his eyes and dimple in his cheek. Richie’s Mom pats his butt and sends him running off after them. </p><p>“<em>Splish, splash, Mavie’s takin’ a bath!</em>” She’s soapy sudsy and dolly doozy and being aided in a non-slip-sit position by Eddie’s hand while Richie sings to and scrub a rub dubs her down with a big soft yellow sponge. “<em>Long about a Saturday ni-ight</em>.”</p><p>Eddie’s shaking his head laughing and Richie’s giving Mavis a bubble moustache and washing her hair with sweetie smelling no-tear shampoo. She looks up at him like he’s got all the answers and her whole heart in the clammy palms of his hands and her wacky wide smile cracks through the tough parts of his soul and clears it all. </p><p>Rich rinses her hair with a plastic funnel cup, ran along the riverbed of the bottom of the bathtub before tumbling down her baby back and onto Eddie’s knuckles. She’s got a hold of Richie’s other hand and is tugging at his thumb with all her might. Eddie’s other is smoothing and soothing her curls back down on her head and shielding her eyes completely from the drippy water. </p><p>Slow, low, calming blinky eyes flutter up at him once done, and she lifts Richie’s hand to her face and mumbles, “Dadda.”</p><p>Richie’s lips fall open and tongue scrambles around at his teeth inside. His eyes are filling up bleary hasty and he’s laughing in beats, crazed in a daze and staring at his precious little baby who knows who and what he is.</p><p>“Yeah, that’s me! That’s me, Mavis. I’m Daddy, I’m Dadda.” Her face is squishy and giddy grinning and stuck flush between his palms as he paws gently at her brows and leaps forward to kiss the space in between.</p><p>When he turns, Eddie’s bottom lip is stuck out and wiggly whimpering and salty tears are rolling right on over it. His bushy brows are furrowed up and he’s holding Mavis’ plushy pink bunny ear towel to his chest. Richie holds his eyes with his own and takes the towel to swaddle her snug as a baby lovebug against his chest and pulls Eddie right in after her. </p><p>“She said it!” He shouts, bumping Eddie’s face out and grasping it in a gentle hold and staring right at wonder.</p><p>“She said it, Rich, loves you so much.” His hand curves round Richie’s and lips swivel and squish to kiss his palm again and again. “Her Dadda.”</p><p>And they’re laying on the bathroom floor and sobbing silly and Richie’s kissing both their squeezy sweet heads and whispering <em>‘Dadda loves you’</em>s and <em>‘Thank you’</em>s to the pair respectively and as the water drains from the bath his heart fills up and up and up.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, Mavis, you helping Grandpa?” Richie’s Dad is sat out on his heels in his murky garden slip on shoes on the greeny grass and ploughing at weeds in the flowerbeds with Mavis by his side completely entranced. </p><p>She’s singsongy gargly giggling away and when Richie joins in, her floaty birdie head flies to look for him. </p><p>He’s sprawled out in the big green oak swing on the other side of the yard, waving his fingers flimsy at her. “Hey, chickadee.”</p><p>“Hi, hi, Dadda.” Opening and closing shiny star like palms and a tilted moony head wave back. Stompy, stumpy legs in frilly white socks kick their ankles into the grass and wait for a toe-tickling from their goofy, goody grandfather and her frumpy yellow hat falls loopy lopsided on her little ducky head.</p><p>Maggie is smiling sunshine over her book at her son and flipping the page with her eyes on Mavis and crossing her legs at the calf and humming Sunday love songs.</p><p>Eddie comes bounding out the backdoor with scrummy yum cheese sandwiches and Mavis tosses around her hands in her blinky wave at him and his face splits into a golly gosh grin. </p><p>He hands Mags and Went their lunches to lovely thanks and gratitude and reaches Mavis with a kiss on the nose. She grabs the bridge of his own and his face scrunchy crunches up while her lips land on it in a smooshy smack. “<em>Ohh</em>, thank you, Mavie.” </p><p>Her sandwich is cut into quarters, he sets it out in front of her with a sweet squelchy pinch to the knees. “Here you go, little darling.”</p><p>Richie watches Mavis watch Eddie leave with matching smiles on their faces, and soon a bite of cheesy love is shoved into his mouth. </p><p>Eddie tumbles onto the swing and under Richie’s wing and sets the plate of both of their food into Rich’s lap. </p><p>The sun’s not so super shiny anymore, settling down for the Winter through its warm Fall, but it’s kind enough to allow soft Sunday lunch in its tiny breezy haze. They’re all bundled up in wooly knit knot cardigans and sweaters and munching away.</p><p>Eddie snuggles further into Richie’s chest, and they watch Mavis crawl around in the mud with a mouthful of crumby brown bread and chuckle. She swipes her head back to face them and waves crazy again and squeaky shouts, “Hi!”</p><p>Eddie and Richie call back out “<em>Hi!</em>” in cuddly unison and their tummies rumble with giggles and funny love. </p><p>Mavis turns to Maggie and performs the same and Richie’s head flies back in a gurgling guffaw. “She’s crazy.”</p><p>Eddie lifts his own slightly to swoopy swipe his pinky straight down the bridge of Richie’s nose. “She’s her father’s daughter.” He giddy glee grins and Richie burrows his head into Eddie’s and wishes for Sundays forever. </p><p> </p><p>Richie’s little duckling is very sad tonight, and he can’t find one way to settle her. Cranky and crestfallen swimming wriggly in her tears and restless in his hold; he’s tried to get her teeny beak to latch onto her bottle, tried rubbing her belly and her back and her toes, tried changing her jammies. Nada. </p><p>He’s getting bouncy himself when he feels and hears the dip of his parents’ bed in the floorboards above and slippy, slappy soles of feet pitter pattering to the bathroom clearly having been awoken. </p><p>Mavis is overtired and wobbly and wailing and Richie is supposed to be the one person on the planet who knows how to take it all away but really he can’t do anything. He feels useless and tiny and tinny and looks down at her splotchy face and sobs. Weeps and weeps with her and slides around the floor in his socks and holds her so close and sniffles to the sky and blinks his eyes and when the front door clicks open, Eddie’s shuffling in smelling like cocoa and coffee and home, sliding off his coat in a hazy dazy rush and skating on over. </p><p>“Hey, hey, hey,” He takes Richie’s face into his hands so, <em>so</em> gently, like he’s a china plate or snowflake or a butterfly wing. His fingertips are dandelion fuzz as they brush down his blush cheeks and delicately dissolve the tears. “What’s all this, Rich?”</p><p>He swoops and scoops up blubbering blue baby Mavis in one arm, her punchy breathy stomach to his chest, and holds and holds Richie in the other. Dreamy dangly digits caught up in his curls, lulling him into calm. Keeping him grounded and still and in place and safe for a moment by the moon. </p><p>Once sure Richie is hushed into placidity, he runs him a glass of water from the trilly tap and leaves him to glug it down his lumpy frog throat while mollifying Mavis. </p><p>“You’ve gotten yourself into quite a tizzy, Mavie. And for what? Hm?” He drums and hums through her song. Taps her onesie butt and runs his palm down through her sleep surly curls. Tigger bounces her up and down and around till the shakies subside to sniffles and the kitchen quiets to a state of mindful mitigation, settled and soothed. </p><p>“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” He murmurs into her forehead, lifting her pearly puffy face up to his own. Holds her whole frumpy frilly body in his two hands out in front of his chest. “You couldn’t have done that for D—“</p><p>“Dadda.” Her fist pokes out to paw at his nose and lips wiggle into a groggy grin and Eddie stills and staggers and stops. </p><p>“N—no. No, Mavis, sweetie. I’m not—“</p><p>“Dadadada,” her birdie peck punches are light on his cheeks but pound on his heart and he hauls her into his neck and twists on his heel heavy and hearty to rush to Richie.</p><p>“Rich, Richie, I am <em>so</em> sorry. I’m so—“</p><p>“Eddie, Eddie, calm down. <em>Calm down</em>,” Richie slaps his glass onto the counter and reaches out for him, all doleful and doubtful and devastated. Mavis scrunches in the middle of them, still nutty nattering and buggy babbling away. Richie clasps his fingers and palms touchy tenderly round Eddie’s neck.</p><p>“You are her Dad.” Richie nods his wavering nose and watery eyes with a snuffle and a sigh and Eddie’s head tilts like a pondering puppy, eyes as wondery wide and wonderfully wise as ever. “Just as much as I am.”</p><p>His head shudders in a shake of a sway and bottom lip juts out. The pad of Richie’s thumb wipes against it and baby brushes the tingly soft flush of skin. Eddie’s eyes fall back onto the baby chick in his arms, batting butterfly lashes already flashing up at him, his own fingers reaching out for them. “And she chose you. She loves you, so much.”</p><p>Eddie shifts Mavis into a curled up cradle in one arm, his other tangling its flouncy flimsy fingers into the hair at the crown of Richie’s head, weepy, weary eyes staring right into his.</p><p>“And <em>I</em> love you. More than anything.” His peacock wings push to show and he’s brave and he’s bearing and bold and in <em>love</em>. “Yeah? And I love that we’re a family, and I don’t want to be scared anymore.” </p><p>Eddie nods, then shakes his hazy head, then nods again and looks so dizzy and dolly and darling and falls into the air in the space between them and kisses Richie square on the mouth. Hard and deep and fast and too quickly split apart by pokey fingers on their nearly touching chins and screams of, “Dadda, Dadda!”</p><p>Their Mavis is googly-oogly ogling up at them with a pecky grin and clapping her hands and suddenly they’re laughing till their heels slip from the ground and their heads are in the clouds and they’re pokey, peeky pecking all over one another’s faces and their daughter’s cream puff cheeks and the sun has gone down and the birds are singing. </p><p> </p><p>Mavis turns one a springy, sunny, lovely morning in March. She sleeps in her own crib now, in her own duckling yellow bedroom. She’s still waving crazy, to every friend she passes in her stroller in the streets, and babbling baloney, mostly to her poppy seed sweet parents. She can teeny tot toddle on her ten tippy tappy happy toes and bounce all by herself in a bubble bath and use a slippy scrummy spoon to tuck in and suck on her sugar strawberries and she’s totally coo-coo-bananas crazy for life and all the love she gets out of it.</p><p>Her goldy locks are cutie curly wurly wiry and stick out and up and round crazy wild all over the place. Eddie has them tied loose lovely into beamy bunches with stringy bows so you can really, truly see the baby brows and big bug browns and buttery fluttery lashes. </p><p>He’s carrying her wiggly wriggly as she dances dolly on his hip and they’re both laughing and looking to Richie; stretched out on his bed, smile awestruck and wonderful and wide. </p><p>He flies flimsy over, tickles the pinky skin beneath Mavis’ chin, pokes at the pudge on her shin. “<em>Heeey</em>, little chicky.” </p><p>She shakes her pumpkin head and tickly tucks it into Eddie’s neck, eyes blinking out at Richie. “Hi, Daddy”</p><p>Rich kisses her fingers then curves a palm round Eddie’s head and pecks his flitty eyelids and apple cheeks, trapping Mavis in the middle of a big bear hug. “A whole year, Eds.” </p><p>Eddie strokes over his back, smooshy smooches his licky lips into Richie’s hair. “Happy, happy birthday to our Mavie.”</p><p>“Fank you, Daddy.” She chirps, and with a singsongy chuckle and jumpy bound down the stairs with her fathers, she’s set back on her own teensy feet to fly off into the living room. </p><p>Pinky purple presents piled pretty in the corner, a stack that only stocks up and up and up as the day goes by. Her uncles and Aunt Bevvie all come to visit, and even some of Richie’s own old aunts and cousins, too. Mavis gets sullen and cranky by twelve and just wants to huddle cuddle hide behind Richie’s calves and suck on Eddie’s right thumb so is put down for a fluffy fairy nap.</p><p>She wakes right as rain around two, lily pad hops and darts into the dining room and soars into her highchair through the wind of Ben’s strong arms and gets all shy when the comfort crowd around her choruses a shiny <em>‘Happy Birthday’.</em></p><p>Holds her Daddies hands in each of her own and switches between hiding her face in either of their elbows before spitty silly blowing on the candles and cry crooning for their help when her little lungs can’t do it on her lonesome. Everyone cheers and her uncle Stan has bought her a bird book and life is so beautiful. </p><p>Richie is so busy gully gazing around at Eddie’s giddy grin giggling with Bev and Mavis in Bill’s arms being serenaded by Mike and Stan chit chatting to Richie’s Dad over the picture book and Ben and Maggie nit nattering over pieces of cake he jumps when his phone buzzes. When he passes by an Eddie enthusiastic in conversation, a hand pokes out and caresses through his hair and down his cheek while it still wobbles as he blabbers on in the other direction and Richie lovey leans into the touch, kissing his balmy palm twice before sauntering out of the room. </p><p>“Hello,” He grazes over the grass and crosses quick to the big oak swing. “Yes, hello, speaking.” He catches Eddie’s funny wondering gaze from the glass doors. “Oh you did? Fantastic. Thank you.” His fingers funny drum his thighs. “Seriously? Wow—you—Thank you so much.” The rest of the conversation is bleary breathy and Richie feels like the swing is setting him up for lift off into the sun before he’s running back to the house and into Eddie’s open arms and telling him they bagged their New York apartment. </p><p>“You’re kidding!” He’s squeally excited and bouncing around and pawing at Richie’s neck and his cheeks and his shoulders.</p><p>Rich hoists him into the air to land back safe snug as a bug in his arms and shakes him around and cackles mushy manic. “We’re going to <em>New York</em>, baby.”</p><p>The rest of the losers cry out and Mavis is passed to him in a haze and everyone’s hugging and they’re all ready and running and bursting at the seams about to live out their preteen dreams together and it’s gonna be so gosh darn grand. </p><p>Maggie’s crying and Ben is too and Went is patting Richie’s back and ruffling Eddie’s head and his sweet, sweet Mavis is singing away in chippy, chirpy glee and when everyone heads out, the sun turns down, lights off and night quiet, the fuzzy feeling sticks around. </p><p>Eddie is laying fully flush against his chest, chin on the backs of his hands, palms pressed to Richie’s bubbly beating heart. He’s blinking slow and steady and sleepy and smiling drunk and dizzy. His hand swoops the sweepy bangs from Richie’s forehead and his turtle dove lips tickle just there before landing on his own.</p><p>Richie’s hands settle sound on the plains of silky skin up and across Eddie’s bare back, mouth milky and melting into his. He’s soft and all soul and licking into Rich’s mouth gentle gingerly and gummy gorgeous and they’re too soon split apart by a laughing lark, chubby hands on their faces.</p><p>Eddie rolls into the fingers in his eye with a honey hum and chocolate chuckle and presses his cheek to squish onto Richie’s chest and look sideways at Mavis, cuddled in the corner with her bunny. Richie throws his head back with a sagging sigh and tiny whispers <em>‘cock block’</em> and Eddie squawks and soft slaps his arm and teeny twinkle toes over to the side is tittery, jittery giggling too, as always. </p><p>“Love you so much, Mavie.” Eddie utters, reaching out for her hand. She spreads out his fingers, sets them on her belly, hugs them close, then lovely launches forward to smooshy smooch his nose. </p><p>Richie wraps his arms cushy comfy close around them and the world falls silent still. Baby hasty breaths even out into settled slumber and his nightlight flickers and he closes his eyes and thanks the stars and the sun and the birds and the bees for a year and a life like a song.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>‘mavis’ means ‘a song thrush’ :) i hope you loved her and enjoyed reading! please let me know and leave a little comment, they make my heart sing! sending all my love and well wishes xxx</p></blockquote></div></div>
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